Street Poet

As the day begins to fade, and the horns begin to sound
Street Poet makes her station on the busy sidewalk ground
She composes rhyming couplets on her typewriter with ease
The phrases seem to fly to her like birds between the trees

She writes of dreams, summer lust, new love in the spring
It's a dollar for a stanza but she'll trade most anything
A tourist takes the torn sheet, puts the paper in her purse
That night upon the airplane, she recounts the poet's words

Saying love is like a ghost, you can't see it but it's there
One day unexpected you might get an awful scare
Don't get misdirected if someone phones you up tonight
Happiness reflects itself. Let love into your life.

It might not be eternity, but let's see what we can see
A way to grow, a way to heal. Let me show you how I feel.
Valley low, mountain high. You're the apple of my eye
We won't know unless we try

The poet types intently, her long hair tumbles down
Toes tapping to the polytonal timbre of her town
Some say she's got a knack for seeing the unseen
She puts it in to poetry the fabric of your dream

I sit beside the poet, she stares into my soul
I said tell me poet tell me are there stories left untold
It's all upon the page, the ribbon prints no lies
The wisdom of the ages: let love into your life

It might not be eternity, but let's see what we can see
A way to grow, a way to heal. Let me show you how I feel.
Valley low, mountain high. You're the apple of my eye
We won't know unless we try